The Edge
by lunarmoth131
Summary: While in Mexico, Gibbs receives a disturbing letter from Abby. Gibbs/Abby
1. Chapter 1

Title: The Edge (1)

Rating: T

Spoilers: Hiatus

Warnings: Mention of suicide

Pairing: Gibbs/Abby

***

After he left, it didn't take her long to track him down. She was a trained scientist after all; did he really think she wouldn't find him? Although she wanted to fly to Mexico and confront him for abandoning the team (and most of all, her), she knew better. Instead, she confined herself to writing him letters every day, sometimes more than one in a day, but most of them didn't ever make it to the mailbox.

She knew he needed the space, needed the time away, but God, did it hurt. Did he really not know her feelings? Did he really not know how much she loved him? Every day another small part of her went dark and silent. She was slipping ever deeper into depression – of course, she didn't allow anyone, not even Ducky, to see the truth. Only Gibbs could possibly know how she really felt, but perhaps he didn't even read the heartfelt letters she sent him. Gradually the pain seemed to dull and she no longer had the words to write – she still cared, but the lassitude she felt was so deep that no amount of Caf-Pow! could relieve it.

***

He hadn't wanted to read Abby's letters at first, because they reminded him too much of what he had left behind. But they were so cheerful and funny that he found himself looking forward to their arrival. He didn't write to her, of course. He couldn't bring himself to acknowledge that he missed her, because she would ask him to come back, and he couldn't bear the guilt he would feel.

After the first month, the tone of the letters began to change, and finally one came that caused him to stop reading them entirely.

_Gibbs,_

_I know you're probably tired of all these letters. Maybe you don't even read them. If that's the case, then it won't matter what I have to say next. But I still have to say it._

_Why did you leave, Gibbs? Why are you so far away? I guess you didn't know that I'm in love with you, or at least I hope you didn't know because if you did that means that you left me anyway, without even the courtesy to let me down gently. How could you not know that I love you, Gibbs? I don't mean the way I love Tony and Ziva or even McGee, either. Actually, I love you in every possible way._

_I just thought you should know._

_Abby_

There were smears in the last part of the letter where her tears had fallen and she tried to blot them. Gibbs threw the paper away as soon as he read the words – the guilt and loss that tore through him left his heart crumpled and bleeding, and he spent the rest of that day hammering at Franks' roof until the incessant banging made his ears ring and drowned out her voice in his head.

***

Three more letters arrived over the next few days, but he couldn't bring himself to read them. Instead, they went under his bed along with the few personal items he brought from DC. He busied himself with the roof and _cerveza_, the hard work occupying his hands and most of his mind, while the alcohol took care of the rest. At night he slept fitfully and woke frequently from dreams that left him disturbed, though he couldn't quite remember why. A week passed with no mail, and he felt both sad and relieved that she had finally moved on.

***

_He could not feel his body as he walked along the uphill trail, but he could see all around him for miles. It was night and the gibbous moon was bright. About half a mile away he could just make out a figure emerging from a large black vehicle. It took a few moments before he realized it was a hearse. "Abby," he whispered._

_She moved slowly towards him, shoulders hunched and head down. As she passed him he started to call out, but at that moment she raised her head briefly and scanned her surroundings, seeming not to see him. He turned to follow her back down the hill he had just climbed. Up ahead the trail split and she took the left-hand fork, which led past a sheer cliff that jutted over the water. As he watched, horrified, she walked right up the edge, glanced at the moon, and jumped._

"Abby! No!" He sat straight up in bed, his pulse racing as he struggled to catch his breath. He switched on the bedside lamp and reached under the bed to grab the last three letters. Finding the one with the most recent postmark, he tore it open and began to read. Unlike the others, it did not begin with 'Dear Gibbs'; it was merely two short paragraphs, with 'goodbye' scrawled at the bottom. His blood chilled as he read.

_I stand on the edge of the precipice, only a centimeter from certain death. All I hear is the keening of the wind as it blows through my body, slowly freezing my heart and numbing my mind. No one else is here. There is no light except the dim moonlight reflected on the water below me. Even the moon is shadowed; the lunar Goddess has been betrayed._

_I shift my weight to the balls of my feet, closing my eyes and imagining the sensation of falling. I feel no fear, just a gentle sadness. No, that's not true. I'm not really sad, just resigned. For the first time in my life, everything seems right. All is in place. Just one more thing to do. Without hesitation, I spread my arms and lean forward._

He looked up into the darkened room, and in the corner he could see her, eyes red and swollen and cheeks streaked with tears. "Gibbs, help me…"


	2. Chapter 2

Title: The Edge (2)

Rating: T

Spoilers: Hiatus

Warnings: Mention of suicide

Pairing: Gibbs/Abby

Disclaimer: NCIS and characters are the property of CBS and DPB. No infringement intended.

A/N: Thank you for the nice reviews! Remember, reviews=love. ;-)

_He looked up into the darkened room, and in the corner he could see her, eyes red and swollen and cheeks streaked with tears. "Gibbs, help me…"_

Slowly his vision of Abby disappeared into the darkness. Reflexes took over then and he quickly pulled on a T-shirt and jeans. "Mike!" he yelled, running into the kitchen. "Mike, wake up!"

Franks emerged from his room to find Gibbs opening drawers and checking under everything he saw. He rubbed his eyes then glared. "What in the _hell_ are you doing, Probie? It's the middle of the night."

"I have to get back to DC. Where are the truck keys?"

"Can't this wait until –"

"Dammit, no it can't!" Gibbs shouted, slapping the countertop.

Mike didn't say another word, just walked back to his room and returned swiftly with a set of keys. "You owe me one, Probie."

Gibbs half-smiled. "More than just one." Seconds later he was revving the truck and speeding towards town.

***

Director Shepard was dressing when her phone rang unexpectedly at 4:45. The number was unfamiliar and there was no name, so she let it go to the answering machine. She jumped when she heard a voice that she immediately recognized.

"Jen? Jen, it's me, pick up."

She sprinted back to the phone. "Jethro?"

"Is Abby okay?"

"Where are you, Jethro?"

"San Diego airport; my flight leaves in ten. What about Abby?"

"As far as I know she's fine. Are you coming back? What's going on?"

"I don't have time to explain. Check to see if she's at work; if so, don't let her leave the building. If not, find her. I'll be there in five hours." The phone clicked, and Jenny sighed at the trademark Gibbs hang-up.

She dialed NCIS and spoke to the security officer on duty; when he reported that Abby was not there, she called DiNozzo.

"Tony, this is Jenny. Get Ziva and McGee and find Abby."

"She's probably getting ready for work –"

"Just find her! Jethro's on his way here. He seems to think something happened to her."

"Why?"

"I don't know, maybe his famous gut! Just get busy, Tony; if he's right, it could be life or death."

"I'm on it, Director." Tony hung up, then dialed 7 for Abby's cell. To his surprise, he only got her voicemail. He tried to tell himself that she was probably in the shower, but he could still hear Jenny saying 'life or death.'. When he tried a second time and still did not get her, he gave up and called Ziva.

***

Gibbs stared at the Airphone in front of him. His mind was racing so fast that his watch seemed to be standing still in comparison. Images flashed before him: Abby stepping out of her hearse, walking past him, standing on the edge of the cliff, and then the worst one, her body lying lifeless on the rocks below. Her eyes as she begged him to help her, and back to the day he left, when he placed his finger on her lips to keep her from asking him to stay. He managed to hold off for two hours into the flight, before picking up the phone and calling Jenny again.

Jenny's caller ID read "Airphone" and she knew immediately that it was him. "Jethro?"

"Did you find her, Jen?"

"Not yet; she could be on her way to work, but she isn't answering her phone."

His gut flipped over again from fear. "Check all the nearby parks that have cliffs near water. Look all the way from Newark to Virginia Beach if you have to."

"Why? What do you know, Jethro?"

"Not anything for sure, just my gut. Look for her car or any other sign of her." He hung up.

Jenny pondered his instructions for a moment before contacting Tony. She hoped Gibbs wasn't saying what it sounded like he was saying.

***

McGee was viewing footage from traffic cameras between Abby's apartment and the Navy Yard when Jenny came down the steps. "Any luck, Agent McGee?"

"Uh, no, Director."

"What time period are you checking?"

"Well, Security said Abby left here at 2030, so everything forward from that time."

"How far have you gotten?"

"Midnight. She left the Yard, but I haven't seen her arrive home yet."

"Maybe she didn't go home. She likes nightclubs, right?"

"Yes, ma'm."

"Change tactics, McGee. Find out where she went last night."

"Director, do you know how many –"

She leaned over his desk, so close that he found himself looking uncomfortably down her sweater. He quickly raised his eyes as she whispered, "Gibbs thinks Abby committed suicide. If we don't find her by the time he gets here –"

Shocked, he quickly straightened. "Uh, I understand, Director." She started to walk away, but turned back when he spoke again. "Ma'm, uh, wh-why does he think that?"

She sighed. "I don't know. He didn't say – it's Gibbs, after all."

Tim nodded. "Right."

***

The plane caught a tailwind, allowing Gibbs to arrive at Washington National nearly 15 minutes ahead of schedule. Thirty minutes later he was taking the MTAC steps two at a time, and Cynthia announced him just as he burst into Jen's office. She was on the phone, a relieved expression on her face, and waved at him to sit down. He didn't, of course, choosing instead to pace in front of her desk.

"Okay, great. Gibbs is here," she said before handing him the receiver.

He took a breath, wondering what he would hear. "Gibbs."

"Hi, Boss! We found her," said Tony.

"Is she –"

"She's fine physically. We found her sleeping in her car at Calvert Cliffs State Park." His tone changed from excited to serious. "You were right, Gibbs. The car was near a trail leading to a cliff over the Chesapeake."

"Did she say anything? Did she explain what she was doing there?"

"No, not really. Hang on." He handed the phone to Ziva.

"Gibbs, I've been trying to talk to Abby, but she's incoherent and disoriented. I think it may be drugs – should we take her to a hospital?"

"No, Ziva, if she's not in immediate danger she's better off here. I don't think she'll want this in her records. Just get her here as quick as you can."

"Will do. McGee is driving her car back to NCIS."

"Good, I'll see you when you get here."

He handed Jen the phone, then sat down, overcome with sudden exhaustion.

"You look like hell, Jethro," she said with a small smile.

"Nice to see you too, Jen," he replied, his expression relaxed for the first time in months.

"So… how did you know? And don't say your gut told you."

"Even if it did?" he asked, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.

"Not even _your_ gut could give you such details out of nowhere. Did she call you?"

"Nope."

"Then how?"

Instead of answering, he stood. "Want some coffee, Jen?" When she raised an eyebrow at him, he added, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

A/N2: One more chapter to wrap things up.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: The Edge (3)

Rating: T

Spoilers: Hiatus

Warnings: Mention of suicide

Pairing: Gibbs/Abby

Disclaimer: NCIS and characters are the property of CBS and DPB. No infringement intended.

A/N: I really appreciate the reviews! I wish I had time to write a longer chapter, but I'm really busy with moving.

***

Abby slept most of the way back to DC; Tony watched her closely in case of any trouble, but her chest rose and fell evenly and her pulse remained steady throughout the trip. When they arrived, he shook her gently. "Abby. Abby, wake up. We're at NCIS. We have to let Ducky check you out."

"Hmm?" She blinked, then opened her eyes wide and stared at him. "Where am I? How did I get here?"

"It's okay, Abbs. I'll help you stand."

Her legs were weak and she felt confused, plus her head felt as if a jackhammer was drilling through her skull. She groaned as Tony pulled her to her feet. "I can walk." She took a step forward, then started to collapse to the floor of the garage. Fortunately he was ready for this, and so was Ziva. They both caught her, then led her to the elevator.

Gibbs stood in a dark corner of autopsy, trying to contain his anxiety. Ducky watched him sympathetically. He was feeling his own guilt about the situation – he had not noticed anything wrong with Abby, so to find that she had been actively contemplating suicide was eminently disturbing.

The elevator doors opened and Abby was half-carried into the room by Ziva and Tony. "Where should we put her, Duckman?" asked Tony.

Dr. Mallard nodded to a table that he had covered with a blanket. As they were helping Abby sit down, Tony spotted Gibbs in the shadows and grinned widely. He started to speak but was stopped by his former boss shaking his head, one finger to his lips. Tony nodded, understanding.

"Abigail, how are you feeling?" Ducky asked, his voice a mixture of sternness and concern. He checked her pulse and blood pressure, then listened to her heartbeat.

"Terrible. What happened?" She rubbed her eyes and winced, as this seemed to make her headache worse.

"We hoped you could tell us, my dear. Do you remember anything?" He collected a syringe and other supplies to take a blood sample, then returned to her side.

"Not – not much," she whispered, lowering her head to avoid eye contact.

The elevator opened to reveal McGee and Jenny.

"What's the last thing you do remember?" Ducky asked, drawing the blood.

"I was driving, and it was dark. I don't know where I was going. I just know I had to get there quickly." Her voice had begun to crack, and when she looked at him he saw pure agony. "Ducky, I just couldn't take it anymore."

He handed the vial of blood to Tony, who nodded and left to have it analyzed. Then he hugged Abby tightly, allowing her to cry against his shirt. "There, there, dear girl," he murmured. "I know. Everything is all right now."

Gibbs felt he couldn't take it anymore, either, so he started to leave his corner, but at Dr. Mallard's steely glare he decided he would have to wait.

"What was the thing you couldn't take anymore?" Jenny asked, earning her own glare from Ducky.

But Abby managed to answer, albeit obliquely. "Why did he leave me?" she asked, the desperation painfully evident in her voice.

Startled, Jenny glanced in Gibbs' direction. She could see the guilt on his face. "You mean Gibbs?"

Abby nodded, raising her head a bit. "Ducky, I'm really tired…" She fell forward against him, unconscious again, and he gently lowered her head to the pillow, then covered her with a second blanket.

"What do we do now, Doctor?" Jenny asked.

"Well, I'll keep an eye on her until I get the tox screen back and find out what she took. In the meantime, I suggest you take Jethro upstairs and make him rest. He needs to get his strength back before he talks to Abby -- I think they might have a few things to discuss."

"I'm not going anywhere," Gibbs announced.

"Yes you are," Jenny countered.

"Jen, I don't work for you anymore, so you can't give me orders, now can you?" The anger was evident in his face and in his voice.

"No, but I am in charge of this agency and I can have Security remove you if needed." Her voice softened at his horrified expression and she added, "Do what Ducky says, Jethro. It's the best thing for both of you." She took by the arm and led him to the elevator – he went with her, but just barely. As the doors closed he cast a longing look back at Abby.

"I am surprised," Ziva said quietly.

Ducky had forgotten that she was still standing behind him. "About what, Ziva?"

"I knew Abby missed Gibbs – she has his picture everywhere – but I did not know she felt so strongly. To attempt suicide –" Ziva shuddered at the thought.

"Yes, I agree. I feel quite badly about it – I should have realized something was wrong." He shook his head sadly.

"How could _he_ know if she was so skilled at keeping it from us?"

Ducky shrugged. "Perhaps she told him."

***

_Abby travelled in her sleep, her mind taking her to a beach far away from DC. She was walking through the sand in her bare feet, listening to the sound of distant hammering. Peering ahead, she spotted a small house and began to run towards it. As often happens in dreams, she was there only seconds later, and she saw him. "Gibbs!" she cried, jumping up and down and waving her arms. "Gibbs, it's me!"_

A/N2: I am getting ready to move, so I won't post updates to my stories for a few weeks. But I promise to finish them once I'm settled! :-)


	4. Chapter 4

Title: The Edge (4)

Rating: T

Pairing: Gibbs/Abby

Spoilers: Hiatus

Warnings: Talk of suicide.

Disclaimer: NCIS belongs to CBS and DPB; no copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: I found time for another chapter! Yay! Thank you for all the nice reviews and inquiries about the story.

_Abby suddenly realized she was getting smaller and smaller, the image of Gibbs on the roof seeming farther away with each second. "Don't leave me, Gibbs! Not again! No!"_

"No!" she shouted, sitting up on the autopsy table. She glanced around her, fear growing rapidly. '_Where am I? What am I doing here?'_ Nothing seemed familiar, not even the faces of Ducky and Palmer as they hurried towards her. _'I have to get out of here_.' It wasn't even really a thought, just a feeling. Controlled by the rising terror, she jumped off the table and ran for the exit, moving too fast for them to catch her. She looked up and down the hallway in confusion. Spotting the door to the stairwell, she opened it and ran upstairs taking the steps two at a time. She wasn't sure where she was headed, she just let her feet carry her.

One floor up took her to a place where she felt safer, although she couldn't have said why. She raced through the lab, past the temp forensic scientist, who stared at her quizzically. Then she locked herself in the ballistics lab, breathing heavily.

She didn't know what she was running from, but she knew there was only one way to be safe for good. With a practiced eye she scanned the shelves full of reference firearms, then located and loaded her favorite pistol.

Holmes in Security received a flurry of calls – first Ducky, who told him not to allow Abby to leave the building. Then Richie Litteken called from the lab. "Some strange woman just rushed in here and locked herself in the ballistics lab!" he yelped frantically. Glancing at Abby he saw the pistol in her hand and his voice rose about an octave. "She's got a gun!"

"Mayfield is on his way – stay out of sight until he gets there."

Cynthia was the third call Holmes received as he made his way down the stairs to the basement. Ducky had called Jen after speaking to Holmes. A few minutes later a group converged on the lab – Mayfield and Holmes, Ducky, Jenny, Gibbs, Tony, Ziva and McGee. The team members had seen Gibbs and the Director heading for the elevator and quickly caught on that something was happening with Abby.

Gibbs was the second to arrive after Mayfield, and to his shock he saw that Abby was not pointing the gun at the security officer but at herself. "Abby, you don't want to do that," Mayfield said in a calm, measured voice. "Put the gun down Abby. Tell us what's wrong and we'll help you."

Gibbs pushed him aside, knowing that Mayfield was unaware of the earlier events. "Abby, you're confused and upset," he said quietly. "I know it's been hard for you since I left. But this won't solve things."

Ducky could see that she didn't comprehend – her eyes were wild, darting from one person to the other, and she was shaking. "Jethro, she's not in her right mind," he whispered. "I don't think she knows what's going on."

"Ya think?" Gibbs' words were pure sarcasm, his fear and anger pushing to the surface.

"You're just going to upset her more. Let me talk to her."

Barely containing his fury, Gibbs allowed himself to be pulled back.

"Abigail, do you know who I am?" Ducky asked gently.

She didn't answer, just shrunk further into herself and pressed the butt of the gun more firmly against her throat.

"I'm Dr. Mallard; you've known me since you started working here. We're friends."

Her eyes stopped sliding back and forth, and she seemed to be trying to focus her eyes on him. In the background one of the machines beeped, and Richie unobtrusively retrieved a sheet of paper, which he passed to Ducky. The doctor glanced at it, his eyes widening when he saw the list of drugs: clonazepam, Prozac, Vicodin. All were well above therapeutic levels. "Abby, you are feeling confused because of the drugs you took. Do you remember taking them?"

She nodded just a bit, then closed her eyes, her finger twitching visibly on the trigger. Tony felt a wave of sickness that seemed to engulf him. He spoke up, the fear obvious in his voice. "Abby, please put the gun down. We don't want to lose you; you're too special, Abbs. Do it for me, Abby. Put down the gun."

For the first time her face showed recognition as she looked at him. "I don't know what's real anymore, Tony."

"I'm real, Abby. You know _me_, don't you? Put the gun down and we'll talk."

The hand holding the weapon relaxed a bit. "They scare me, Tony. Make them go away."

"Will you talk to me if they leave?" He held his breath as he waited for her answer.

"Yes," she whispered.

Tony motioned to the others to leave. "You'll have back-up," Holmes whispered as he left. Tony understood that the security officers would be right outside in the corridor if Abby tried to run again.

The others did not want to leave, but Mayfield and Holmes gently ushered them out.

Tony was still holding Abby's gaze, and when she began to lower the gun he let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. "Can I come in, Abbs?"

She unlocked the door, then fell into his arms as he entered. He kicked the gun as far away as possible and slowly lowered her to the floor, holding her tightly. "Oh, Abby..." he sighed.

Ragged sobs echoed in the small room, his shirt developed a wet spot, and Tony could feel tears running down his own cheeks. He was not one to cry easily, nor did he usually show his sensitive side. But this was Abby, who was like a sister to him, and she was in serious trouble. Could he find the right words to help her? Could he make her understand how important she was to all of them?

He kissed the top of her head and pressed his cheek against hers. Rubbing circles on her back with his palm, he murmured encouraging words. "It's okay, Abbs. I'm here. You're safe."

They sat on the floor for a long time while she cried, and Tony's left leg began to fall asleep, but he didn't mention it. Finally her breathing began to calm down and she became quiet. He thought maybe she was unconscious again, but she finally spoke and he had to laugh. "I could really use a Caf-Pow! right now," she stated longingly.

"Want me to get you one?" He started to stand up but she grabbed his arm tightly.

"No, no! Don't leave!" Her voice still held some of the fear she had expressed earlier.

"Okay," he agreed, sliding back to his former position. "Can I get someone else to bring it?"

She hesitated, then agreed.

He reached over to the phone and punched in the number of the director's office. "This is DiNozzo. I need a Caf-Pow! down here ASAP." He appeared to listen for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, that'll work. We'll be waiting."

Less than five minutes later, the door to the lab opened, and Abby looked up, startled. When she saw Gibbs enter with a red and white cup, she began to shake violently, burying her head in Tony's jacket. "Tony," she said, her voice muffled and uncertain, "I see Gibbs. With my Caf-Pow! It can't be Gibbs, can it? I'm seeing things. Why am I seeing things?"

"You're not seeing things, Abby," he reassured her. "It's really him. He came back from Mexico to save you."


	5. Chapter 5

Title: The Edge (5)

Rating: T

Pairing: Gibbs/Abby

Spoilers: Hiatus

Warnings: Talk of suicide.

Disclaimer: NCIS belongs to CBS and DPB; no copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: This is a shorter chapter, mainly because the subject matter is rather difficult.

***

Abby opened one eye and peered up at Gibbs, still unsure of what she was seeing. He bent down and held out the cup, hoping she would see the concern and tenderness in his eyes.

Tony patted her back encouragingly and she slowly reached out to grasp the cup, taking a huge gulp of the heavily caffeinated drink. Her eyes were still on Gibbs, as if she were waiting for him to say something. He began to feel self-conscious – he had absolutely no idea what to say to her in that moment. Many thoughts were swirling through his mind but which one would be appropriate?

Without thinking he found himself signing '_good'_ with a questioning expression. That brought a small smile to Abby's face, and she signed back '_yes_'. Tony waited, silently hoping; he didn't know the signs but the important thing was that they were conversing.

Gibbs signed, '_You scared me._' Abby indicated she didn't understand, so he added, '_I was afraid you would hurt yourself._'

Her mouth formed an 'O' and she looked away, her expression sad. '_Why did you leave_ _Mexico_?' she signed after a moment.

She was sitting up straighter and totally focused on Gibbs now; Tony began to feel that maybe he wasn't needed anymore. But when he started to stand up, she still held onto him as if for protection.

'_Why are you here, Gibbs_?' she asked, more urgently.

'_Because_ _I love you_', Gibbs replied, nodding to emphasize the truth of his statement.

Her eyes grew wide, and to his great dismay she turned towards Tony again, burying her face in his jacket. "Help me, Tony," she whispered.

"How can I help you, Abbs?" She didn't respond. "Do you want him to leave?"

Abby glanced at Gibbs and nodded, pain evident on her face.

He tried to remain impassive, but in reality he was crushed that she had rejected him again. Tony could see that his former boss couldn't take much more. "It's too much too soon, Gibbs," he said gently. "Give it time. I'll stay here and keep her safe."

Gibbs turned on his heel and left the lab, but he couldn't bring himself to go any farther. He wanted to be close in case Abby wanted to see him. He didn't understand why she was hostile – or at least, fearful – towards him. Didn't she want to know that he loved her? Did she distrust what he said? And why was Tony the one who was able to comfort her? He felt very resentful towards the man who had apparently taken his place – at least partially – in Abby's affections. '_I traveled 3000 miles to be with her_,' he thought, with more than a trace of bitterness. '_I could have just made a phone call_.'

Underneath those angry thoughts was the deep-seated belief that the whole situation was his fault. If he hadn't left, Abby would not have gotten so depressed that she would attempt suicide. If he had read her letters, he could have stopped the process before it got this far. '_If I had killed Ari when I had the chance, Kate would still be alive. If I hadn't been in Kuwait..._' The spiral of guilt continued on and on. '_I should be the one to help Abby,_' he thought. '_Tony didn't cause it; why is he the one to fix it_?'

Although Gibbs' emphasis on "fixing" Abby's depression showed that he didn't have much experience with the condition, McGee knew all too well what it felt like to contemplate suicide. As he sat in the bullpen in frustration, he opened a text document and began to type:

_Agent McGregor had felt the pain of depression before, when he was in graduate school. He knew the dreary, sleepless nights, the loneliness, the physical and emotional pain that eventually became just too much to bear. He had wanted to kill himself then, and came very close to it, stopped only by a sensitive instructor who noticed him even when he tried to make himself invisible._

_Amy knew of his past. He had told her about it in detail one night when they shared pizzas and beer at a little place down the street from the 'agency.' She knew that he would understand her feelings, so why was she pouring out her heart to Agent Tommy instead? Tommy's capacity for empathy was about as large as his capacity for treating women with respect. McGregor knew that Tommy couldn't help her. He had to be ready to pick up the pieces when Amy finally realized her mistake._

McGee sighed. He hoped Abby would realize her mistake before it was too late.

Across from him, Ziva David sat finishing a report. Although she was concerned about the usually cheerful forensic scientist, she also felt a certain amount of disdain for anyone who would even consider taking the coward's way out by committing suicide. Ziva had been brought up to believe that a negative mood was a sign of weakness, not a disease. She didn't truly accept that there was such a thing as depression, and she definitely thought that Americans put too much emphasis on it.

'_They take all these pills_,' she thought, '_but they don't take responsibility for their lives_.' Ziva still acknowledged Abby's abilities as a scientist, but in other ways, Abby had lost her respect.

On the lowest floor of the NCIS building, Ducky and Palmer worked silently on a non-urgent autopsy. Ducky's mind was not on the body in front of him; instead, he was preoccupied thinking of his friend and her predicament. He knew it wasn't Gibbs' fault, not really, but he was still angry with his old friend for failing to talk about his past, and for leaving NCIS so abruptly. It was easy for him to add Abby's depression to Gibbs' list of sins. On the other hand, Ducky acknowledged, Jethro did know, somehow, that Abigail was in trouble. If he hadn't alerted Jenny, Abby would probably already be dead. He found himself mentally scanning through his recent conversations with Abby, searching for any signs of impending trouble that he might have missed.

Upstairs, Director Shepard's thoughts traveled along the same lines, although her interactions with Abby were few and far between. She wondered how Jethro knew if Abby didn't call him for help. The younger woman had often claimed there was some sort of 'psychic connection' between them, but that was impossible, wasn't it? Still – how _did _he know?

In the ballistics lab, Abby had gone back to sleep, her head in Tony's lap. Unlike the others, he wasn't feeling guilty, angry, or disdainful. Instead, he had joined Abby in slumber and his snores echoed in the lab, causing Richie to shake his head and sigh as he attempted to do a little forensics work.

A/N2: Some of the reactions I have portrayed here may seem a bit harsh, but the reality is that there are a lot of mixed feelings after someone attempts suicide. No matter how much other people care and want to help, some of their feelings will probably be negative. I speak (write) from my own experience, having been on each side of the issue at various times.


	6. Chapter 6

Title: The Edge (6)

Rating: T

Pairing: Gibbs/Abby

Spoilers: Hiatus

Warnings: Talk of suicide.

Disclaimer: NCIS belongs to CBS and DPB; no copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: Thank you all for patiently waiting for the next chapter. Hopefully, from now on they will be posted more quickly!

***

When Abby woke again, her head felt much clearer and she felt a strong need to visit the restroom. She turned her head and was surprised to see that it was Tony she was resting against. He was still asleep and she had to smiled at the tiny line of drool falling from the corner of his open mouth.

Moving slowly, she disentangled herself from his arms and stood up. Walking into the main lab, she was startled to see a stranger standing at her workstation. The earlier events were a blur; she barely recalled waking up in autopsy and running to the lab.

"Who the hell are you?" she demanded, hearing her own voice crackle a little. This made her realize that he lips were dry and her throat hurt.

Richie turned quickly when she spoke. "Uh – I'm the temp. Are you all right?"

Simultaneously Gibbs and Mayfield, who had been just outside the door, rushed into the room. "Abby –" Gibbs began, trying to contain his emotions but failing utterly. "You're-"

Tony had also awakened. "Why didn't you wake me up?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

Abby felt overwhelmed at the sudden flood of attention, but she was not paranoid like she had been before. Putting two fingers to her lips, she gave a sharp, loud whistle, causing everyone to become quiet. "I'm going to the ladies' room," she announced. "Anyone who tries to stop me gets to clean up. I'm not responsible for the consequences."

Normally it would have been funny, but in this instance no one laughed. Gibbs, Mayfield and DiNozzo followed her, but she did her best to ignore them. To her great relief they didn't to follow her all the way into the bathroom. But when she came out, they were waiting.

"How do you feel, Abby?" Tony asked quietly.

"Like an amoeba under a microscope," she grumbled. "Otherwise, I feel better. I'd like to see Ducky. Any objections?" Since no one spoke up, she headed for the elevator, her 'entourage' in tow. Tony was pleased to note that she was no longer clinging to him – he considered it to be a very good sign.

Ducky was surprised when Abby walked into autopsy. "Hello, Abigail," he said heartily, removing his gloves so he could hug her. "How are you, my dear?"

"I'm better, Duckman. Can we talk – just the two of us?"

Ducky glanced significantly at the three men, and they moved to the far side of the room. Then he led Abby to the small alcove used as a dressing area. "Sit down, Abby. What would you like to tell me?"

She looked down, her shoulders hunched over. "I know everyone is mad at me, and I'm sorry."

"There may be some disappointment, my dear, but our main concern is you. We almost lost you three times."

She looked up, her eyes wide. "Three?"

"Yes. You took the pills. You were planning to jump off that cliff. And you put a gun to your head."

Abby winced at his blunt descriptions of her actions. She looked down again. "Gibbs is here," she commented, in an apparent _non sequitur_. "Why?"

"Didn't you call him?"

She shook her head. "No. I sent him letters. I may have hinted at something. I told him I loved him. But I never said how depressed I was."

Dr. Mallard sighed, feeling a twinge of guilt. "How long have you been depressed?

"Since Kate died. For awhile it got better. When Mikel was stalking me, it got much worse and things just went downhill from there. Gibbs got blown up and he didn't remember us, and when he did remember he just left." Her voice was choked with emotion and a single tear ran down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away.

"You take antidepressants?"

Abby nodded. "Yes, for about a year now. They weren't working so my doctor was thinking of adding a mood stabilizer in case it's a bipolar depression."

Ducky thought it quite likely that Abby could be bipolar, given her extreme ups and downs. "And the clonazepam?"

She smiled a bit in embarrassment. "Since Gibbs left I've been very anxious. I have nightmares that he's dead, or that Mikel's back and Gibbs isn't here to protect me."

"I see." Ducky pondered for a moment, then asked the crucial question. "Abigail, are you feeling suicidal now?"

She started to shake her head, but he stared directly into her eyes and she knew she had to be truthful. "Somewhat," she admitted. "Ducky, don't make me go to the hospital, please!"

"No," he agreed, "in my experience hospitals can do more harm than good. Sometimes they are advantageous to keep a person safe from themselves, but you, my dear, have the advantage of working at NCIS. There are many people who care about you and can watch you so that you don't do anything to harm yourself."

Abby sighed with relief. "Thank you, Ducky!" she replied, pulling him into a hug.

"Um… yes. But –" he added as she moved away, "we must contact your psychiatrist. Do you have a therapist as well?"

"I stopped going," she admitted. "He was an idiot."

"Not surprising, I'm afraid – I am not against psychotherapy, but it is a field with a high potential for incompetence. We will find you a _good_ therapist. I'll make some calls. And you will call your doctor for an appointment – today, if he can fit you in."

She smiled – a welcome sight after all that had happened. "If _she_ can fit me in, Ducky."

"Oh," he chuckled. "Sorry."

"Okay, I'll – wait, Ducky?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think Gibbs would go with me to my psychiatrist?"

'_If he doesn't I'll break his neck'_, the doctor thought. "I'm sure he will," he said aloud. "Go tell him what your plan. I am positive he will do whatever you ask. Remember, he came a long way because you were in trouble."

Abby nodded and walked across the room, feeling the nervousness grow with every step. What if Gibbs wouldn't go with her? Was he mad at her? Did he want to hurry back to his favorite _playa_ to drink his beer? '_Only one way to find out'_, she told herself.

She forced herself to look directly at him as she neared the waiting group. "Gibbs," she said, with no preliminaries, "I need to ask a favor of you."

"Anything, Abbs." He said it quietly but fervently.

"Ducky wants me to see my psychiatrist. Will you go with me?"

Gibbs didn't allow himself to think about what could happen if he ever set foot in a psychiatrist's office. Therefore, he didn't hesitate in his response. "Sure. When is it?"

"I'm going to call her office right now. I'll make it as soon as possible, 'cause I know you want to get back to Mexico as fast as you can." She moved swiftly towards the telephone, too fast for him to correct her mistake. Contrary to her assumptions, he was in no hurry to leave.

In fact, he intended not to – unless she was with him.


	7. Chapter 7

Title: The Edge (7)

Rating: T

Pairing: Gibbs/Abby

Spoilers: Hiatus

Warnings: Talk of suicide.

Disclaimer: NCIS belongs to CBS and DPB; no copyright infringement is intended

Leroy Jethro Gibbs would never have been caught dead (much less alive) in a psychiatrist's office – however, as with most rules this one had exceptions. He would go if given orders by SecNav. Or, as at present, if asked by the woman who owned his heart.

Abby's foot was swinging and fingers in constant motion as they sat in the doctor's waiting room. "Gibbs, are you mad at me for asking you to come with?" she blurted out suddenly.

They hadn't discussed anything yet; Gibbs felt it prudent to wait for her to bring up whatever she felt like talking about. But he hadn't expected this. "No," he replied quietly. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I feel there's a wall between us, and I'm not sure which of us put it there."

"Maybe both." His voice was gently regretful.

She looked surprised and opened her mouth to demand what he meant by that, when the nurse came to the door. "Ms. Sciuto?"

She stood up and started to walk away from him, then hesitated and turned back. 'Come with me?' she signed.

He smiled a little and nodded, following her.

They walked into an office with a computer desk on one end and a grouping of chairs and couches on the other. Gibbs waited for Abby to choose a spot, then sat down beside her.

A middle-aged woman with dark hair entered. "Hi, Abby," she said warmly. "You brought a guest with you today."

"Yes, this is Special Agent Gibbs," said Abby, suddenly feeling it was all a mistake. She desperately wanted to run from the room, but she knew that wouldn't go over well. So she sat on her hands and tried to smile.

"I'm Dr. Judy Cato," the older woman said, holding out her hand to Gibbs. He shook it briefly and nodded.

"Now, Abby, in your message you said you attempted suicide. Is there a reason you haven't gone to the hospital like I suggested?" The doctor was pleasant but firm; Gibbs was glad it wasn't him in the hot seat! However, he wanted to protect 'his girl.'

"We've been taking care of her at NCIS since the incident," Gibbs heard himself saying. "We have a physician – well, he's our medical examiner – whom she trusts, so we felt she would be better off staying there until she could see you."

Dr. Cato smiled; Agent Gibbs was exactly as Abby had described him. "Abby, would you like to add anything?"

"Yes," she said glancing at each of them, then looking down at her jeans. "Gibbs came from Mexico to help me. I'm not sure why. But I probably would have died if not for him."

"Do you feel grateful that he came?"

"No, not really."

Gibbs' shock showed on his face. He started to speak, but Dr. Cato held up her hand. "Wait a sec, Agent Gibbs. Why not, Abby?"

"Because I _wanted_ to die. I still do. He stopped me. And he was one of the reasons I wanted to die! I felt totally abandoned when he left, and I love him. He says he loves me, too, but… something's wrong inside of me. I don't understand why I don't feel better now that he's here."

Her voice had only broken once, but two tears trickled down her cheeks. She didn't bother to wipe them away.

The doctor nodded acknowledgement. "I know it is confusing. But the depression you have is only partially related to the stress you've been under in the past year. As you probably know, it's also about chemical changes in your nervous system."

"But I'm taking meds, why haven't they fixed me?" Abby was crying openly now, and Gibbs' fingers itched to wipe away the tears. His arms struggled to wrap her in a tight hug, but she probably didn't want his comfort right now, anyway.

"Ask her, Agent Gibbs," the doctor suggested, as if reading his mind.

"Ask me what?" Abby raised her head, revealing red eyes and nose with tear-streaked cheeks.

"May I hug you, Abby?"

Her eyes grew wide and a flood of fresh tears came, but she collapsed against him and he enclosed her in his embrace, kissing her forehead. After several moments crying on his shoulder, she pulled back a little and began to beat lightly on his chest with her fists, her pigtails swinging as she shook her head. "You damn bastard!" she cried. "I needed you! You wouldn't even let me tell you how much I wanted you to stay. You didn't let me tell you how I felt!"

"That's true," he said calmly, allowing her to take out her rage on him. "I was afraid if you said one word I would stay, and I couldn't bear to do it, Abby. Not at that moment. I couldn't deal with the – the –" he struggled to find the right words, "the _futility_ of it all. Or what seemed like futility. I wanted to stay, but I just couldn't. You have no idea how much I missed you, Abs."

She had relaxed somewhat and was wiping her face with a tissue. She sniffled a bit. "Ho much, Gibbs?"

He saw an echo of a smile briefly light her face. "More than I can say," he replied fervently.

During this confrontation Dr. Cato had simply watched, ready to give guidance if needed. Although she was not a therapist, she had studied therapeutic principles and always tried to give more than just little pills, depending on her patients' needs.

Abby, leaning against Gibbs' shoulder, asked "What should I do to feel better?"

"Remember we discussed adding a mood stabilizer?" Abby nodded. "Your history suggests bipolar disorder. If you're bipolar, antidepressants don't have the same effects that they do on non-bipolar depressed people. They may boost you into mania, or may have no effect at all. We've tried several antidepressants with little to no success, so I would like to prescribe two additional medications, Depakote and Abilify."

"Divalproex and aripiprazole," Abby mused. "Depakote has been used for many years, right?"

"Yes, it has a good track record and the side effects are generally less serious than those of lithium. Abilify is an antipsychotic that has been approved for use in bipolar. We'll start with small doses and titrate upwards." She tore a page from her prescription pad. "Here you are. You'll take 125 mg of Depakote and 5 mg of Abilify for the first two weeks. Then we'll go from there. Any questions?"

"What about therapy?" asked Gibbs.

"Abby is seeing a therapist –" She stopped when she noticed Abby's sheepish expression. "No?"

"No. I didn't like him. He was an idiot and he thought being Goth was a psychiatric disorder."

Judy chuckled. "Definitely not a good fit for you! Okay, we'll find you a new one." She pondered for a moment. "How would you feel about outpatient hospital? Would that be acceptable?"

Abby felt uneasy about the whole thing, but she realized that if she did go to day hospital, her friends at NCIS might actually be able to get some work done instead of watching her all the time. "Ok," she murmured.

"Great. I'll set it up and you can start tomorrow or the next day. In the meantime – Agent Gibbs, is she under 24 hour supervision?"

Abby grimaced, but Gibbs pretended not to notice. "Yeah, one to one unless she's in a locked room with all dangerous objects removed. And that's only for short times, when she's asleep."

The doctor looked at Gibbs with newfound respect. '_They actually seem to know what they're doing_', she thought. "Who came up with the plan? Surely you don't do that with prisoners."

"No, they _stay_ in the locked rooms," he half-smiled. "Dr. Mallard, our medical examiner. He has sort of a secondary specialty, or an interest at least, in psychology."

"I'll consult with him. May I call him directly, or should I go through the main number?"

"Here's his number." Abby wrote quickly on a business card, then handed it to the doctor. "Thanks, Judy."

"I'll see you in a week but feel free to call if you need me. Bye Abby, Agent Gibbs."

A/N: What do you think? Is this too OOC?


	8. Chapter 8

Title: The Edge (8)

Rating: T

Pairing: Gibbs/Abby

Spoilers: Hiatus

Warnings: Talk of suicide.

Disclaimer: NCIS belongs to CBS and DPB; no copyright infringement is intended

Gibbs and Abby walked towards the outer door of the waiting room, but before they reached it, Gibbs stopped. "I'll just be a minute," he said to Abby. Dr. Cato was standing at the inner door watching them.

"Dr. Cato," he said in a low voice, "what can I do to help Abby? Would it help her if I….?"

She smiled secretively, understanding what he meant. "Here is the name of a colleague of mine who works with Marines. Give him a call and he'll advise you."

Gibbs nodded his thanks, then turned and left with Abby.

As he started the car, he noticed she had a wide grin on her face. "Nice smile, but why?" he asked curiously.

"I know what you asked her." She made the sign for lip reading.

"Well, keep it to yourself," he replied irritably.

Abby laughed, and Gibbs thought it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. Although he was a bit embarrassed that she knew, he smiled. Then, on impulse, he leaned across and brushed her lips with his.

She looked surprised, though not distressed, he was pleased to see. "Why Agent Gibbs, how sweet!" she drawled. "But how 'bout a real one?" she demanded in her normal voice.

He chuckled, and gave her what they both wanted.

***

One month later

Abby stood beside Gibbs in the elevator, his hand resting comfortingly at the small of her back. She had completed day hospital, and therapy plus the change in medication had started her mood on an upward track. She listened to her old music again, and smiled and laughed much more often.

Gibbs would never admit that his meetings with Robert Maxwell were for his own benefit as well as Abby's, but the truth was that he had begun to share his feelings about his wife and daughter at long last. This was the first step in letting go of the tremendous burden of guilt which had made his mind prefer coma -- a kind of death -- to living.

No one but Abby (and Ducky – he had to tell his old friend this time) knew that he was seeing a therapist, but they could see the results. Officially, no one knew that he and Abby were together, either, but unofficially, it was no secret. They attributed the changes in Gibbs' demeanor to the healing power of love. They weren't entirely wrong.

The elevator dinged and they stepped out, greeted by a crowd of people shouting "Surprise!" The room was decorated in red and purple flowers and balloons, and a large banner proclaimed "Welcome Back, Abby!"

She smiled and leaned closer to Gibbs, excited but a bit overwhelmed. "Abby, come have a cupcake," said Tim. "I got this one especially for you." McGee had been able to cope with Abby's relationship with Gibbs much better than he had the potential threat of Tony. In fact, he was planning to include it in his next book.

"Thanks, Tim," she said, hugging him tightly. She was clearly happy, although she had not yet returned to her previous levels of exuberance.

"It was my idea," said Tony. "For the party, I mean."

Ziva elbowed him. "No it wasn't, it was Tim's idea. Abby knows better than to believe you."

Abby's mouth was filled with cupcake so she couldn't respond verbally, but she could and did sign a response. Gibbs chuckled.

"Hey!" protested Tony. "What did she say about me?"

"She agrees you lied about the party but she's very thankful to you for helping her," Gibbs translated.

Abby nodded vigorously, giving Tony a hug and then Ziva. Tony seemed a bit embarrassed; he had not expected her to do anything except tease.

"Thanks, guys," she said earnestly. "I'm really glad to be back. I'm not cleared to work in the lab yet, but I can do desk work and catch up on writing journal articles."

"So Richie is going to be around a little while longer, then?" Tony asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Yes, why?" asked Gibbs, sitting down at his desk. Abby sat at her own desk, placed right beside his.

Tony, Tim, and Ziva glanced at each other furtively, trying not to smile. "No reason," they replied simultaneously.

Abby laughed, and hugged Gibbs. Things were looking up!

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me through this story. I appreciate all your reviews! And, a sequel is a distinct possibility. I have an idea in mind.


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